Withdrawal

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Keith sat sideways in the armchair and read a book. He genuinely liked the story, but he was always yanked out of his head with Lance's fidgeting. The TV was on and his eyes were on it, but there was no way he was actually retaining any information. He would occasionally shift his weight, then cross and uncross his arms, then stretch, then sit back or forward. Over and over as if he was in a time loop. He twirled a pen in between his fingers for a while, then threw it on the coffee table-only to pick it up again a few seconds later.

Keith stared at him with annoyed eyes. After the third time picking up the pen, he'd had enough. "Stop it!"

Lance finally noticed his stare and gave him a sheepish smile, setting the pen back down. "Sorry."

Keith returned to the book when Lance sat back and relaxed. He read a few paragraphs before Lance switched positions again. Keith slammed the book shut and dropped it in his lap. "Lance! Please, just sit still for more than five seconds!"

"I can't, okay?!" Lance sat forward and leaned onto his knees, rubbing his forehead with his palms. "I need something."

Keith sighed and shrugged in annoyance, "Do you want me to make you something to eat?"

Lance took a long breath then nodded. "Yeah, that sounds good."

Keith tossed the book onto the coffee table and walked over to the kitchen. He tried to be understanding and forgiving, but Lance's withdrawal symptoms were the most annoying things he had to deal with. Being the caregiver was so much different. He didn't know how Lance ever dealt with all his shit when the roles were reversed.

Lance got up to wrap his arms around Keith's waist and rest his chin on his shoulder. Keith stopped making the sandwich he had chosen and leaned onto the counter. "Do you need something?"

His hands ran up Keith's stomach and hips. He kissed his neck, "Forget the food."

Keith let out a defeated sigh, "You're so complicated."

"I know, right?" Lance ground his hips against his ass. "I know you're sick of my shit, you don't gotta hide it."

Keith laughed and wiggled out of his hold. He pointed a playful finger at him, "You are so annoying, it's like babysitting a puppy with ADHD." He yanked a dish towel off the counter and snapped it on his thighs, "Who gets horny at random times!"

Lance tried to shield himself from the towel, "Okay! Okay! You win!"

Keith stopped and tossed the towel back onto the counter. He turned back to Lance and put his hands on his hips. After a moment of thought, he dropped to his knees.

"Uh-!" Lance took a step back and gave him a shocked look.

Keith rolled his eyes and slid forward to reach him. He undid Lance's jeans with nimble fingers.

Lance panicked a little, "Keith, you don't have to-"

"Oh my god, would you shut up?" Keith looked up at him. "Do you want me to get you off or not?"

After receiving a blank expression, Keith undid his jeans and tugged on them. He lifted Lance's shirt to kiss just below his belly button, then nuzzled into his crotch on top of his boxers.

Lance's breath hitched as he kept trying to find something to do with his hands. "Keith-I just-are you sure?"

Keith clicked his teeth and leaned back to give him a judgmental look. He spoke slow and deliberately, "I'm literally centimeters away from your dick. What's up with you?"

"You just-" He fidgeted his hands. "You haven't ever really done this before."

"Does that scare you or something?" Keith tugged his jeans down a little more. "I just haven't done it to you. Now are you done?"

Lance shut his mouth and nodded.

Keith resumed what he was doing before he was interrupted. He peeled back down Lance's boxers and took his dick into his hand, stroking gently but with an adequate amount of pressure and speed. He glanced up to meet his eyes, then brought his mouth to the shaft. Using his tongue, he trailed up to the head and lapped at the underside.

"Keith," Lance had become weaker and gained a low, breathy voice.

Keith put his mouth around the top and hummed for a second, then retreated to repeat the action. Lance's hand drifted over his hair, which annoyed Keith for some reason, so he looked at it and nodded. "You're fine. Go ahead."

No with permission, Lance carefully laced his fingers into Keith's wig and held his head. Keith teased him with a couple kisses, then took him in his mouth. Lance's hand tensed as he held back his voice. Keith set up a rhythm and encouraged Lance to cut out his gentle act and use his hand to push down harder.

"Keith," Lance breathed out, "Go a little faster."

Keith took his mouth off and smirked up at him. "Make me."

He returned Lance into his mouth and let him take control. Keith's eyes teared up a little with the pressure, but he didn't mind. In fact, it only seemed to turn on Lance more. With Lance's own personal thrusts, he finished with Keith's hair balled up in his fists.

When he released, Keith swallowed to clear his mouth and wiped his lips. He stood up and let Lance take care of his jeans. Turning back to the counter, he turned the sink on to wash his hands. "Now go sit down and I'll bring your food."

Lance gave him a cheeky salute and backed up toward the couch. "Yes, sir."

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